


Coffee and Assassins and Adderall

by Who_First



Series: ADD [1]
Category: Batman (Comics)
Genre: add, severe need of meds
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-08-15
Updated: 2012-08-15
Packaged: 2017-11-12 04:41:03
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,173
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/486801
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Who_First/pseuds/Who_First
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Tim has a few mental issues, well known, and sometimes the bad guys find out. And then comes the bribery and the threats and well...</p>
            </blockquote>





	Coffee and Assassins and Adderall

**Author's Note:**

  * For [LectorEl](https://archiveofourown.org/users/LectorEl/gifts).



Tim typed, starting the download process, before he let his attention wander. 

It wasn’t something anyone noticed. His inattention that is. After all, he was such a nice and quiet boy, who cared if he needed multiple projects to focus on. That was the only way Tim could finish anything.

Still it would be nice to have his brain quiet somedays. Like when he’s trying to take down Ra’s computer network. That wasn’t the best time to have his taking in everything at once.

Now if he had his meds, and caffeine, Tim could focus all that _need_ on one thing.

That, actually, was pretty useful as a detective. Needing to see everything, find all those tiny details, double checking, always thinking, helped with the evidence. It also helped when he needed to find a quick escape.

Another glance at the computer screen showed Tim had wasted three minutes. His face and eyes reflected in the blue glow, eyes glaring at the snail slow progress bar. 

Yeah. The whole attention deficit was only a _problem,_ when he’d gone days without any medications or caffeine. _Speed would be really nice right about now_. That would solve just about all of his personal problems and probably give him some good ideas on his Ra’s problems.

Also it made him feel really good, and he could get it from Jason which _almost_ meant brotherly bonding time. That and Jason was amused that his goody two shoes of a brother was addicted to methamphetimines. 

It made both of them happy.

Tim’s eyes canted to the sides, fingers tapping quickly against the desktop, becoming completely lost in thought as his focus took a left turn. _Would the ninjas bring swords, shurikin, or guns when they came to show their displeasure?_

Another glance across the computer, showed the progress bar steadily climbing. Tim might make it out of the building alive.

Life expectancy after Ra’s found out was grim.

Both of his legs were now jiggling, the only outward sign of his restlessness, eyes still moving along the walls and papers scattered against the small desk. The minion’s desk he was at, was low enough not to have any new information really, but was still high enough to be hooked into Ra’s private network, and that’s all Tim needed.

Now, if only the tapping on his head would stop, so he properly distract himself for the last few minutes needed. At least the tapping was in time, unsynchronized group tapping always irritated Tim. 

His nose wrinkled, informing Tim of the truly awful bitter stench of gun oil, and what was the average speed of a high velocity shot? Mmm. And coffee. 

Tim twitched as the smell of really good coffee, the kind with lots of caffeine and spices, slithered around the strong smell of oil. Not the Starbucks crap, with no taste of caffeine,  but real coffee that liked to kick you in the teeth as you drank it.

A tiny, delicate, teacup floated into Tim’s view. Steam slowly wafting upwards, and that lovely smell of real coffee just waiting for the appreciative drinker.

Alfred could make some truly amazing coffee, if you bribed him correctly, but this smelled like it might outdo his. 

Tim twisted in his seat, nose and mouth, following the coffee cup as it pulled away.

The tall, dark haired sniper, finally stopped bouncing the rifle against Tim’s head, looking incredibly amused as the young vigilante completely ignored him.

Tim half fell out of his seat, tripping over too many extra feet, as he tried to follow the escaping goodness. 

The male sniper easily slipped past Tim’s flailing, leaning over the desk as he tapped a few keys, the progress bar of doom easily stopping before completely downloading the virus.

The two precent of Tim’s brain still focused on his current, _past_ , project shed a disappointed sigh. It had taken ages, the reason he’d run out of both caffeine and meds, to construct the virus. A very nasty piece of brilliance and Tim was positive that it would have made Ra’s cry.

He would like to see big, bad, Ra’s cry. That would really make his day.

“Gimme,” Tim tripped again, ignoring the third assassin stepping up to catch him around the waist. 

Z smirked, probably learned at his Master’s feet, retreating out of the room before he allowed Tim to take the cup. 

“The Master asks that you cease attempting to destroy his empire.” 

That didn’t even earn a sneer over the cup rim, as Tim sipped, the whole cup was gone in seconds. Peace fell over his face, lines of exhaustion smoothing away, as Tim swallowed the last sip.

And collapsed against the female killer.

The tea cup shattered against the stone floor, pieces scattering amongst their feet. Pru barely kept their Detective from joining the pieces as he slumped. 

“I thought he said not to drug him.” Pru griped, even tiny underweight vigilante’s weighed a lot. “This looks fucking drugged.”

“I didn’t drug him.” Z replied serenely, smug smile still in place, . “But, _perhaps_ , he was expecting caffeinated coffee. Not decaf.” 

Pru looked impressed, irratated, but impressed. She was still shifting awkwardly as Owens stepped up behind her, easily taking the body, and lifting Tim into a fireman’s carry. 

“Probably cheated.” Pru swore as they followed Z out. “Don’t think even the Master would use decaf.”

“It worked,” Owens shrugged, one arm wrapped around dangling legs. 

“Fucking cheat.”

~ ~ ~ ~

Tim blinked slowly, mind in a pleasant fog where he didn’t care, slowly coming back as his feet bumped against carpet and engine noises trickled into hearing. So he was in a car with a soft carpet, when he mostly remembered stone floors and shoes. 

A face came into view as he continued blinking, along with the realization he was resting against someone’s legs, head bent back into someone’s _lap_. This was worrying, especially as the face stopped being so fuzzy and turned in Pru. A quick head tilt showed Z and Owens on either side of her.

“Timothy.”

“Fuck no.” Tim squeezed his eyes shut as he groaned. 

The legs under his head jiggled in silent laughter.

“You’ve become rather rude in your old age, Detective.” Ra’s voice wasn’t at irritated yet. 

Which was good. Ra’s irritated usually came with torture, death, and resurrection. Rinse and repeat the steps as many times as needed to gain the optimal mind fucked slave.

Something Tim normally tried to avoid. 

Most of the time.

“Timothy are you paying attention?” 

Tim let his head fall sideways, Pru’s lap was surprisingly comfy, just enough to eyeball the handsome Demon. Who was starting to look just the tiniest bit annoyed.

“No.” Tim gritted his teeth, really needing some more coffee, eyes flickering around the car. Limo most likely, with the amount of room there was between his feet and Ra’s seat. “I’m really sad you guys stopped me. That virus was going to destroy you.”

“Oh really.” Ra’s looked pleased, and don’t think Tim missed the approving nod directed at the assassin trio behind him. “You must be devastated.”

“I’m pretty sure you would have cried.” Tim nodded against Pru’s lap. “I was hoping to get a recording of it.”

One of Ra’s decidedly expressive eyebrows flew up. 

“Detective... are you feeling quite alright?” Ra’s pursed his lips, one hand brushing against his goatee. “You appear to be quite undone.”

“I am not undone.” A quick glance to confirm. “My pants are still on.”

The other eyebrow flew up, but Tim was more impressed by the choked off laughter coming from behind.

“Indeed. Which is a shame considering your lovely legs.” Ra’s sat back, hands clasped in his lap, eyeing Tim with increased interest. 

“Batman only frowns on murder, not ripping off the dicks of molesting bastards.” Tim retorted tartly. 

“I do believe he frowns on both. Alas, what I meant, was you do not seem yourself today.” 

Tim sniffed, turning his face further against Pru’s leg so he didn’t have to look at the immortal mad man. Ra’s dick had probably fallen off centuries ago from disuse anyway. Tim really, really, needed more, stronger, coffee.

Either way, he refused to deal with the Demon’s Head when he was this exhausted and there were so many more interesting things he could be thinking about. Murmured Arabic started, and that was totally the next language he needed to perfect being fluent in. It was very different from the romance languages he had conquered by fourteen. Should be harder which would make it interesting. Might even keep his attention for a few weeks.

Fingers poked at Tim’s head, making him growl against the warm leg, and wonder how far he could sink his teeth in before Pru would retaliate. Not like it would get him very far, with how little he knew about what was outside the limo. There was probably a road. Maybe.

Tim looked up in time to see Z handing Ra’s a prescription pill bottle.

Z jerked, twisting away from Tim’s clawing hands as he attacked. Pru and Owens reacted seconds later, grabbing Tim’s arms and yanking him away from Z. 

“You bastard!” Tim swore, letting the curses escape, as he remembered the missing bottle of medication from his emergency bag. “Why did you steal my medication?!”

Owens had both arms around Tim’s chest, holding the younger man in place on his lap, while Pru kept his legs and feet immobilized. 

“Do calm down Timothy.” Ra’s smirk only earned more curses from the struggling vigilante. “They shall be returned unmodified.” 

Tim relaxed slightly. Ra’s preferred  obfuscation , bending around the truth like the snake he was, instead of lying directly. And Owens’ lap was even comfier then Pru’s. But he had less padded armor on. Also he had that extra padded section in the middle that made a great pillow...not that Tim would ever admit that. To anyone.

He blinked again, time really was moving faster than he could pay attention to, opening his eyes to Ra’s carefully reading the label on the bottle. Pru and Owens kept their hold on Tim, while Z moved to the floor next to the demon king, still murmuring in Arabic.

Possibly he should have rethought avoiding Arabic because of Damian. It really felt like cutting his nose off now.

“It is a shame that you must put up with such a disability.” Ra’s almost looked disappointed, as he waved a hand, still focused on the stolen vial.  

“If it’s such a disability,” Tim drawled, relaxing against Owens muscled chest. “Then you must feel really bad about losing to me.”

“Touché Detective.” Dark eyes glittered as amusement crossed Ra’s face. “I have learned to never underestimate you, in _any_ situation, but it has come at the _occasional_ heavy cost.” 

Tim smirked as he thought of bases in ruins, ships exploded, hats lost, and general destruction. Good times. Funny enough that tends to happen a lot in Tim’s life, regardless if he had a good plan or bad plan. Explosions were pretty. All flamey and explodey.

“Which I am sure you have enjoyed.” Ra’s expression was, well he obviously knew what Tim was thinking about with that kind of smile crossing his face. “But...”

Tim let his head rest against Owens, starting to rub his toes into Pru’s hand, and glaring all the while at Ra’s. 

“I refuse to say ‘but what’.” 

Pru snickered, pinching the bottom of Tim’s bare feet, and where the hell had his shoes gone anyway. Owens just dug his fingers into Tim’s side. Now here was a warning Tim knew well, thanks to Dick, the warning of ‘stay still or prepare to be tickled’.

“Of course my Detective.”

“Not yours.” Tim grumbled to more pinches and poking. 

“I simply wish to point out how much more you could achieve, without needing medications to keep your attention focused.” 

Ra’s leaned forwards, ignoring Z pressed against his side, kept leaning forwards until he brought his face next to Tim’s. 

Who was currently wondering if he could relax further against those nice muscles without rousing Owens suspicions. Or if that was too late, without making commitments he wasn’t going to keep.

“Or.... If you prefer, think of how much more damage you could cause to me and other ‘villainous’ types, without needing medications to remain on task.”

Tim stopped, still wondering about the firm muscles, and the hand slowly moving up his arm instead. 

“Science has tried so many ways of _curing_ , such ‘deficiencies’, as attention deficit disorder.” The hand shot out, gripping Tim’s chin, and forcing his head in place against Owens neck. 

Tim gasped, chest heaving with the indrawn breath, as the cold fingers tightened. 

“There are ways, past men’s science, to fix such things.” 

Tim took another deep breath, Ra’s grinning as he looked away, trying to ignore the fingers trailing down his throat. Down his arm and to his captured wrist, sharp nails resting against the rapid pulse. 

“Perhaps we can come to an agreement. My Detective.”


End file.
